Death in a time of plague
He died at home in bed
In the check pajamas
His wife had bought him
Twenty years before
In a sale in Dunne’s Store.
He slipped away peacefully
The end came mercifully
The coroner will probably
Confirm Covid nineteen.
He was a good man
Who stole from no one
Who paid his taxes
Who asked for nothing.
And nothing he received
He who paid his dues
Not too rich and not too poor
For the state to pay attention.
Invisible now and silent too
He slipped between the cracks
That allowed in a little light
An Everyman, like me, like you.
Because of Covid
No final hurrah
No gun salute
Just a gentle wave.
So he departs
From a place called home
To a grave by the sea
With a granite headstone.
